TaintedEchoes
by bookworm03
Summary: Post season 3...my first attempt at angst. Tony and Michelle...Michelle and Tony's POV...COMPLETE thanks to all the wonderful reviews!
1. Tainted

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the characters affiliated with 24.

**A/N:** _Hey guys! Okay so I've had this written for a while and it's kind of been a working progress when I was lacking ideas for my other story. I was going to wait until that was finished before posting this but I guess I'm getting kind of impatient and I would really like to hear your opinions on this. It's my first serious attempt at angst so let me know what you think. Inspiration for this was sparked when I watched the end of Season 3 one weekend and I just had to get something down. Your thoughts/critiques are greatly appreciated as I'm not sure how well this turned out…I hope you like it! (PS: I do have a few other short chapters ready to be added on if anyone is interested, if not I shall simply get back to work on my other story!)…_

_T/M of course…_

Tainted

Breathing was an effort now, as Michelle lay alone in her bed that night, and every night as she had since Tony was sent to prison. Every spasm of her diaphragm seemed to cause a painful knot to form in her chest.

Everything caused pain these days. Getting up in the morning and dressing for work as good as killed her each and every time; for Tony was not around to beg for her to come back to bed with him, or wrap his arms around her while she poured her coffee and leaned over the sink, reading the paper. And at work, while she went through the motions of her new job, she knew Tony's eyes weren't on her, watching her. That he wasn't sitting a few meters away, grinning to himself while Michelle tried to focus. He hadn't been able to do that for a long time. Coming home at night to a dinner of cold cereal or leftover pizza did not hold the same appeal it had the last time she was alone; that had been by choice though... Dinners, now, were when Tony was cooking, throwing in a few well placed comments about Michelle's meager abilities.

_Sweetheart, if you promise not to cook I will take you with me anywhere. _

Tony had chuckled a he said this, as he always did at mention of her cooking. And she loved him for it. Loved him for accepting her, for understanding her, for cherishing her, but most importantly, for loving her back.

But breathing, well, that was the most painful of all. For breathing was something that couldn't be avoided, that couldn't be ignored. And as Michelle lay on her back, staring at the uneven ceiling of the room, breathing was all there was. It consumed her, surrounded her, even suffocated her. It forced sobs up from the pit of her stomach to the back of her throat where she'd already exhausted every attempt to try to hold them at bay. No matter how long her days were, how badly she worked herself to the bone, she could never sleep at night. For her breaths should not have been the only ones in the room. But they were…and the notion just about destroyed her every time.

She rolled over and checked the alarm clock. The red numbers blinked incessantly, as if trying to emphasize how late it really was, and how long ago she should've fallen asleep. They did this every day, the numbers. They were all that existed to remind her of what she should be doing, that time passed whether Michelle could deal with it or not, and that she had to live her life even though Tony should be there, living it with her.

_I should be there with you…_

Everything in existence seemed to taunt Michelle with memories of Tony, as if the world was relishing in her torment. A simple flower on the side of the road brought about a flood of memories, and most of the time Michelle had no idea where they came from. A flower shouldn't have that kind of power over her; it was just a flower after all. It shouldn't make life more difficult than it already was, flowers were supposed to be simple, delicate, pleasant. But for Michelle, everything was tainted; numbers, flowers, and even breathing.

Michelle wondered how much she had really changed. Everyone told her she wasn't herself anymore. She was cold, emotionless, indifferent. The seemingly accusatory comment had elicited a rather harsh one of her own: _Really, what the hell did you expect to happen?_

It was Jack who had received this retort. He'd called a few days ago, checking up on her. CTU, it seemed, was finally pulling itself together after all that had been ruined with the Cordilla Virus outbreak. Erin Driscoll was director now, and Jack had been removed from his position. Jack was suffering just as much, if not more than Michelle was after that day, and she felt the need to take out her anger on him. For, in her mind, it was he who had let Tony down, he who had not managed to persuade a pardon out of President Palmer. Palmer would be leaving office in a few months, time was running out.

Michelle did not ask Jack how the whole thing was going, she knew if there was anything to report he would tell her. And despite herself, she knew Jack was trying, that he didn't need reminding of the numbers counting down on the clock with each passing day. If anyone understood the significance of those numbers, it was Jack. He didn't need reminding… he just needed for Michelle to have a little patience.

Tainted, everything was tainted; her life, her livelihood, her loves, her fears, her friendships, her…heart. It had all been tainted by that day. Death would have almost been preferred and it sickened Michelle to even think that. For the reason she was alive was the same reason for her polluted existence. It was the reason she couldn't stand to be in her own skin anymore. It was her fault this was all happening, that Tony was locked away in a cold jail cell, sick, hurt, and god knows what else. She was the reason he'd lost his job, his freedom, everything. It was all because of her.

These thoughts had eaten away at her for months now. Especially since she'd transferred to Seattle…she'd abandoned him because she couldn't deal with it. And yet Tony's reassurances kept playing in her head, they were the only reason she hadn't given up on everything entirely.

_Baby you're alive…I can live with that, even in prison. _

Tears stung Michelle's eyes as she thought back to the moment when Tony had spoken those words to her. There was no doubt in her mind that he meant them with nothing but genuine sincerity. He was in prison…for her…and he was okay with that. The least Michelle could do was be grateful. It didn't matter how she felt about the matter, if she'd rather herself have been carried out of the Chandler Plaza Hotel in a body bag, or dumped in a ditch somewhere by Saunders men. Tony wanted her alive, happy, living her life. She could do that for him. She could find a way to forgive herself for being the reason he was in jail since that was what he wanted her to do. For him, she could do it.

_I can't believe I almost lost you._

It was selfish. Michelle was selfish. Part of the reason the thought of Tony in jail was eating away at her was because she wanted him there, with her. Cuddled up against her, fingers entwined in her hair, not needing to ask what was bother her for he would already know. He always knew. Instead he would whisper words of comfort to her, kissing her neck and ear lobe every now and then, because of the simple fact that he could. An arm would remain securely wrapped around her, alleviating any reservations or fears she might have. Because Tony was there, and somehow, no matter what was tormenting her, that thought made everything okay. He loved her, regardless of what she did or didn't do, said or didn't say, whether she faced a problem head-on or collapsed in his arms uninhibitedly at the end of the day. He was there to pick up the pieces. To hold her while she sobbed, or coax a few tears out of her when she was fighting to hold back. He let her know it was okay to show a little weakness in front of him, she always had. She felt safe with him, always remained convinced that he would never judge her based on what upset her. It could be anything; a death, a day from hell, or a broken nail. Even if he couldn't understand it himself, Tony would remain by her side.

_I trust you with my life…_

Now she needed him more than ever. This time it was the worst type of ache she'd ever experienced, it was heartbreak. Every one seemed to be able to grasp some idea of what she might be going through, but no one could do what Tony did. No one could really make her feel like it would all work out, that she would be okay, survive this. No one else loved her like that, that much, and no one ever would.

Michelle realized she was sobbing into her pillow now; her mind was clouded as though she was falling into nothing but complete and utter oblivion. And there was no one there to catch her. She was alone. Racked with the grief as every memory, touch, sensation coursed through her body like a bolt of lightening through metal.

And, as suddenly as they'd started, the sobs stopped, and one coherent thought remained in Michelle's mind that somehow made everything seem that much more bearable. Tony's voice resonated through her, penetrating Michelle to the very depths of her soul… and offering her the lifeline she needed to survive the night…every night…

_Hey…I love you. _


	2. Echoes

Echoes

Tony lay alone on a cold bed, with nothing but a few layers of cheap foam between himself and a piece of hard, unforgiving metal. He would never get used to sleeping like this, no matter how long he was stuck in this cell... He was too accustomed to having Michelle's body tucked in snugly against his, warming him from the inside out.

It was his favorite time of day, the minutes they shared together just before falling asleep. As she was starting to doze, Tony would pinch her, causing a squeal to escape her lips. Michelle would roll on top of him, a leg on either side and kiss him, with a big smile on her face, the kind he could feel in the kiss.

But tonight, and for the past two months, Tony had felt nothing of the sort while he slept, unless he felt it in his dreams. Michelle was often the focus of his dreams. Scarier than the fact that he might spend the better part of his life inside the concrete walls that contained him, was the fact that Michelle could get hurt, and he wouldn't be around to protect her anymore. She needed someone to protect her; Tony had come far too close to losing her too many times to leave it up to fate.

_Don't let them do this…don't let them do this_...

It was a horrible loop that he had caught himself up in. He was in jail because he refused to let Saunders kill his wife, not when he could protect her. Protocol, obligations, all of that had been dismissed in a heartbeat when he saw Michelle... When he saw her pale, wide eyed and afraid…

In all his life Tony couldn't remember ever being happier than when he was when they were together. Each day he would think himself incapable of loving her more, and somehow she'd say something, or do something and Tony would see how possible it really was. How badly it tore him up inside when he realized there was a chance he might not get to experience that anymore.

_The past three years have been the best years of my life. _

There were so many things Tony loved about Michelle that words were usually inadequate when it came to expressing it. A lump rose in his throat every time he imagined loosing her, watching her suffer, watching her as anything less than completely happy. He loved that she would smile for him, laugh for him, and even force him to do the same, even after a day from hell...He loved the way her curls sprung out in defiance of their restraining clip, tempting Tony to brush them out of her face; always falling in front of her eyes the instant he removed his hand, allowing him to do it again. He loved that Michelle would stick up to him, to everyone, that she had principles, believed in something. Whatever the cause, whatever the results, Michelle stood by it, even if everyone else disagreed…

_I did what I thought was right, I still believe that. And I won't let you lie for me. _

He was in prison because he had saved Michelle; that was what everyone told him. But in truth, Michelle had saved him. Saved him from a life of loneliness and isolation…drawn him out from the shell he'd sunk into, afraid to trust anyone intimately again.

And she'd done it with such ease, with such beautiful elegance. She'd done it, simply, by loving him. By trusting him without expecting anything in return…by smiling at him and holding him tightly against her chest, stroking his hair at night when he couldn't sleep, when the day had just been too much. She'd cracked the shell when no one else could and because of that he found himself loving her more than words could ever express. Stopping Saunders from hurting Michelle had never even come close to being a choice. He was indebted towards her. Indebted, for the rest of his life to keep Michelle safe, anything else was too unbearable to even imagine.

Tony wondered what Michelle was doing now, if she was alright. He hoped to God she was alright. He hoped to God that she was happy, that she found some way to put all of this behind her. He didn't want her to be dwelling on him, on his misery, even though he was convinced beyond any reasonable doubt that she was. _Beyond any reasonable doubt_…those were the words that had convicted him. That had put him between a rock and a hard place. That had isolated him from the woman that caused his heart to break a little bit more each night he spent without her. Those words were causing his heart to gradually erode away, until eventually the remnants would dissociate completely into his blood stream, leaving him with nothing but an empty cavity in his chest, and an excruciatingly painful void that should be filled with love. Love for his wife, his country, his…life.

Nothing but echoes. Echoes of Michelle's presence, of his previous life, of how unbelievably happy he'd been since the day of the bomb. Echoes were all they were. Echoes that resonated off every surface in the room, in his body…never quite distinguishable but always there…Taunting, teasing, moving to the next location just as Tony got close enough to feeling some facade of happiness because of them.

_I'm okay…I'm not infected… _

No, he knew Michelle wasn't happy. He'd seen her a month ago, when she'd returned home from Seattle with only one intent in mind. A guard had escorted him out into the visitor's area. Michelle had been seated at the table, her hair straggly and unkempt, her eyes puffy and raw from all the tears that had passed through them in such a short period of time. She looked tired, like she hadn't been sleeping, and Tony had struggled to remind himself that she probably wasn't. That he knew her well enough to know she was probably lying awake every night sick with worry about him.

_You scared the hell out of me…_

Michelle had rose when she saw him enter the room, where an array of different prisoners were clinging to loved ones, sobbing hysterically, or conversing in low voices with lawyers. Some people were in there for murder, drug dealing, rape, battery, a whole slew of different transgressions. Tony was in there because of the woman in front of him. Wearing a look of such silent desperation that he honestly believed he might drop dead right on the spot for being unable to soothe her to sleep, for being the cause of all that was hurting her so much.

When he had finally reached Michelle her eyes had searched him carefully, looking for new cuts or bruises or skin abrasions that had formed since her last visit. Luckily, Tony had managed to hide those well. He didn't need to add to her list of worries. Besides, it pained him too much to see the look she got on her face when she found his new injuries…he could no longer numb himself to everything when she looked at him like that…

Satisfied, Michelle had hugged him closely gasping for breath, while Tony remained afraid to hold on too tightly in case the reality of the whole thing might slip away. A tear-stained cheek had been pressed against his, it was cold. Michelle was so cold these days. He wished he could warm her up somehow…

With the hug finally broken they sat down across from each other and Tony spoke the words he'd ran through his mind a thousand times before their meeting:

"You can't keep doing this to yourself Michelle…"

"There's still a chance we'll hear from President Palmer…" her voice was raspy.

"The chances aren't great sweetheart – you know that."

"I won't give up yet."

_I can't…I won't give up on you…I can't…_

Michelle had reached out a hand, stroking his cheek delicately with her fingers. Her other hand was still laced in Tony's.

When her hand reached his jaw Tony turned his mouth and kissed the inside of Michelle's palm. A few tears fell down her face and she closed her eyes in defiance. Tony knew what she was doing, for he was doing the same thing. Trying to imagine they were somewhere else…That they were at the kitchen table instead of in the middle of maximum-security prison; where the guards were shooting them dirty looks for what could only be construed as "daring to show emotion"…Where the other prisoner's would most like joke about it behind his back when they heard his wife came to visit him…For they dared not breathe a word about her to Tony's face anymore, not after the last time one of them had done so…

The last time had been Tony's second day in prison. A guard had spat something at him, insinuating the reason Tony was locked up, and one of the other prisoner's had decided to bait him with it.

_That bitch of yours is probably fucking every guy under the sun Almeida, they always are…and you're in here because you – _

The prisoner had never finished his sentence. He was on the ground being beaten to a pulp the second Tony had crossed the room. Tony would pay, later, he knew, but he didn't care.

And so now, no one breathed a word about Michelle to Tony…Tony would _not_ let anyone in that room make him feel guilty for kissing his wife…

As each night wore on Tony couldn't help but question his decisions. Not about saving Michelle, _never_ about saving Michelle. He questioned why he had let himself get so close to someone again, why he had risked it…for now it was not only him that suffering because of his indiscretions…but his wife. The person he cared about more than anything...If Tony hadn't asked her out officially after the bomb, if Tony hadn't made love to her at the end of their second date - hadn't lost any form of cognizant thought the instant she touched him…if Tony hadn't asked her to marry him…she would be fine. She would not be alone tonight and he would not be in prison, alone maybe...but not in prison.

It would be miserable, he would hate himself, hate who he was without her…but Michelle would be okay, she wouldn't know any better and isn't that what all of this boiled down to? Making sure Michelle was okay?

_I'll go anywhere with you…_

Michelle didn't want that though…never wished for that, (though she feared he might)... She'd told him…she just missed him. Being with someone else was unimaginable to her for she only wanted him…nothing else mattered.

Tony felt a familiar prickling sensation in the corner of his own eyes and he lay in bed, knowing there was no point in trying to fall asleep any longer. The first rays of dawn had arrived and were peaking over the courtyard to the prison. Another night ended…another night without Michelle. And somehow, totally uncharacteristic for Tony, he found he could be optimistic about this. For one more night without Michelle, meant he was one night closer to seeing her again. He could do this; he could make it through this for Michelle. She was willing to stick by him for as long as it took and because of that, he could get through this for her. As long as he had something to cling to, something that made everything seem a little bit easier…

And he did have that, and it encapsulated Michelle perfectly. The circumstances under which the words had been spoken, the emotion in her voice when she'd said them. He knew Michelle meant them and because of that, they were enough to make the hardest things seem easier…They always were, and always would be, enough…

_I love you so much. _


	3. Breaths and Poetic Justice

**A/N:** _Aww, yay! I'm so glad you guys liked this story. It seriously made my week…The reason I started writing this is actually pretty funny…but anyways, this is the last chapter I planned on having for it. I might start working on something else post-season 3 later but probably not for a while as I have lots to come for my other story! So I'm really so glad you guys enjoyed this one and I hope this ending is appropriate…what can I say, I'm a sucker and I couldn't resist…Enjoy! _

Breaths and Poetic Justice

Michelle was roused from her sleep. She fumbled with her phone and answered quietly, her voice still thick with tears, dully aware of the massiveness of her bed, one she'd never shared with her husband.

"Hello?"

"Michelle! It's Jack." He sounded anxious.

"Jack, what's going on?"

"President Palmer called Michelle…he's giving Tony the pardon."

Michelle heard the emotion in Jack's voice and yet still found herself disbelieving the words. Surely she was dreaming.

"He what?"

"He's freeing him Michelle. It'll be official tomorrow. He just called…Tony's getting released…"

Her arm hit the nightstand, hard, and her throbbing elbow told her it was no dream. Michelle was sick was disbelief. It was a cruel joke surely. But then, Jack would not do that to her, not when he knew how much she was suffering. Tears fell and Jack heard the sobs through the phone.

"Really Michelle, they're releasing him at noon tomorrow. President Palmer's going to be there personally…"

That made sense. Palmer could be there. He was in LA. It all made sense…

"Oh my god…"

"It's okay Michelle…its okay…" Jack calmed her. "I'll pick you up tomorrow, okay? From your house…we'll go down there together…" Your house. _Their_ house... It would be their house again soon. A voice told her so. Their house, their bed...

"Alright…alright I'll be ready. I just have to get a flight out of here…" The words were not hers. Michelle had not thought them but they had come out just the same.

"At eleven okay?"

"Okay…th-thank you…"

"I'll see you in the morning Michelle."

The rest of the night Michelle was awake, going through the motions of packing her things, running to the airport to catch a 3am flight, but never really believing why she was doing this…Tony was being released…he was coming home.

She was long ready by the time Jack rang her doorbell, fussing unnecessarily with her clothing. Uncharacteristically, she flung her arms around Jack's neck when she pulled back the door.

"I can't…" she didn't know what say. Jack returned the hug. "Thank you so much…"

She pulled back and wiped her eyes. Jack patted her shoulder soothingly. "Let's go get him back…"

The car ride was the longest of Michelle's life, longer to than the one to the hospital after Tony had been shot. Jack would occasionally glance over and offer her a smile, which Michelle returned, she hadn't felt herself smile in a long time, and Jack hadn't seen her smile in a long time. It was good. He decided. Michelle and Tony deserved to be happy. Tony did not deserve prison and Michelle deserved her husband back. This was good.

Jack and Michelle were ushered into the prison, past security, being informed that President Palmer was expecting them. He waited patiently in the entrance way. He smiled at Jack when they walked in.

"Jack," they shook hands. "It's good to see you."

"Thank you Mr. President."

"I've spoken with Mr. Almeida already. He's collecting his belongings now."

Palmer's eyes finally rested on Michelle.

"This is Michelle Dessler." Jack informed Palmer.

Her words were hoarse with emotion when she finally did speak.

"Mr. President, I can't thank you en-"

"You're husband's already said enough for the both of you." Palmer assured her, hand resting on his shoulder. "He was no traitor."

Michelle nodded and looked at the floor, holding back tears, as she had done so many times for the past two months.

"In any case, thank you Mr. President. You have no idea how mu-" her words were breaking and Palmer squeezed her arm comfortingly.

"Almeida's almost ready." A guard called. "We'll need someone to fill in the paperwork."

Jack looked at Michelle. "I'll go…" he assured her, knowing Tony would not want Michelle to.

He left Michelle and Palmer standing together, Michelle waiting with baited breath.

"Tony…"

Jack saw his unnaturally thin frame pacing back and forth.

"Jack…I don't…" he shook his head in disbelief as Jack approached him. "Thank you." he extended a hand. They shook and Jack noticed his grip had lost some of its firmness.

"You never were a traitor Tony." Jack assured him before turning to the forms that required filling. They were sitting on a table as a guard oversaw their completion. Tony continued to pace back and forth, clearly unsure of what to do, how to act. In two months he'd found himself unable to remember how to function properly. How to stand still when there were no bars confining him…

Tony suddenly stopped pacing and Jack looked up, waiting for him to ask what he knew he was burning to.

"Where's – "

"Outside with President Palmer." Jack assured him. "I didn't think you'd want her doing this."

Tony shook his head. Michelle had dealt with enough of that since he was incarcerated.

"How is she?"

Jack sighed. "She'll be fine in about ten minutes."

"I…the last time she was here…she – "

"I know Tony; I've been keeping on eye on her."

"Thank you for that too."

Jack smiled and signed the bottom of the form, handing it to the guard.

"The warden just needs to verify these." The guard explained.

"You are aware President Palmer's standing outside." Jack told him, irritated.

The guard nodded. "Unfortunately we still have to follow procedure."

"I've been here for two months Jack, another few minutes won't matter."

Tony finally stopped pacing when the guard left and slumped in the chair.

"I'm nervous." He admitted.

Jack stared at him.

"To see her I mean." Tony still found himself unable to say Michelle's name, not until it could be used as a term of endearment towards her first. "It's been a long time since I wasn't…I mean…I don't like her seeing me like – "

"Trust me Tony; she just wants to see you. She doesn't care about anything else."

Tony swallowed hard. He was afraid when he saw Michelle he wouldn't be what she expected. Or that he wouldn't be able to hold it together when he finally had his arms around her…It was just too much to take.

They sat in silence for the remainder of the time.

"Mr. Almeida." The guard had returned. He was _Mr_. Almeida again. "You're free to go."

Tony stood in unison with Jack. His legs felt wobbly and he steadied himself with a hand against the table.

"C'mon Tony…" Jack quietly roused him from his reverie. "Let's go."

Walking down the hall was the longest walk of Tony's life. It seemed never ending and yet, at the same time, seemed to be over far too quickly.

He held back when they reached the heavy door.

"You ready?" Jack asked.

Tony took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah."

Michelle heard the door starting to open and immediately stopped speaking. Palmer had asked her something and she was in the process of responding, but had forgotten what to in an instant. Palmer took a step towards the side as Jack emerged from the door, followed by Tony.

Michelle's breathing grew shallow, still holding back sobs as the pair crossed the room towards her. Jack veered off to where Palmer was standing, while Tony streamlined to Michelle. He was still staring at the ground in front of him, though.

And then, he was standing there, a few feet away. Tony was still moving but he finally looked up, meeting her eyes. Michelle pursed her lips together, as the tears threatened to spill over her lids.

As the distance between them closed all of the memories came flooding back, neither attempting to suppress them any longer, neither feeling them too painful to think about anymore… They came back, accompanied by a wave of emotions, the memories they'd both been hearing in their heads for what seemed like forever... They crashed and collide inside each individual mind and the distance between them gradually vanished.

_I'm so tired…I'm so scared…_

_We're gonna survive this day…_

Tony was a few steps closer now. They would survive this day, everyday, all of this would soon be over…

_I should be there with you. _

_You are. _

Another step closer. Michelle could almost see the abrasions on his skin, the scar at the base of his throat…

_I can't believe I almost lost you. _

_I almost lost you too. But we're still here. _

Yes, that was right. They were still here, and they would be together again soon.

And suddenly Michelle found time moving far too slowly, that she couldn't wait any longer for him to reach her. She closed the distance between them in a few quick strides and threw her arms around his neck, mashing hard into his body and burying her face into his shoulder.

_I won't give up on you…_

_Baby, you're alive…_

Tony kissed the side of her face when he felt Michelle's tears through his shirt. She was there…he was holding her again…how he always had…

Michelle clung to him like nothing else, refusing to let anything in the world tear her from him now. She could cry for someone again. It was okay to lose her composure. She was home.

"Michelle…" he breathed softly. Saying the word felt right again. He rubbed slow circles against her back and lifted her off the ground, squeezing her even more tightly against him, ignoring the protests of his muscles.

Michelle could not speak, no matter how hard she tried. After months of holding back, months of having no shoulder to cry on…Tony was there.

"God, I love you." he choked. Michelle moved away as if finally realizing where they were and wiped her eyes. Tony's thumbs replaced her own fingers and he kissed her gently, resting his forehead against hers.

"Let's go home." He whispered to her. Michelle nodded and took a step back. After a few short goodbyes, and another round of thanks for Jack and President Palmer, Tony and Michelle left the prison, never looking back…

As they walked across the pavement, surrounded by inmates spending their few minutes outside for the day, Michelle glanced around, breathing, effortlessly, for the first time in months. The air felt good, fresh, and it no longer cut like a knife when it entered her lungs.

Tony's expression grew stoic as they continued to walk in the sunlight. His looked between the iron gates, looking for the faces of inmates who had dared breath a word behind his back, for the guards who had tormented him everyday for the past two months, for those who had called him 'traitor'…this, he decided, was poetic justice.

He wanted to slip his arm around Michelle as they continued to walk, but he couldn't, something was holding him back. He didn't know what but for some reason, he couldn't will himself to do it, and that hurt, for it was all he'd dreamed of being able to do again for the past two months…

Michelle noticed the change in his demeanor and eyed him carefully, wondering what he was thinking, what was tearing him up so badly. Prison…it must've been prison…being locked up. He must be uncomfortable, feel strange...feel like something was missing…

And then, Michelle realized what she had done, or rather, what she'd still to do. Before now he would've never needed the reassurance, he would've known without her ever needing to say a word... But today, now, he needed to hear her say it; he needed to hear _the words_. Michelle slipped her hand in his and held him from going any further... Tony was puzzled until she pulled him back towards her, the faintest hint of a smile on her face...

"Hey," she spoke softly and she drew him in, lips a few inches from his ear. _Hey…_the memory came back. Tony's heart skipped a beat.

"I love you." _I love you._ Reality fused with the echo now.

And Tony smiled. The first real smile Michelle had seen since he was taken away. She smiled back as she kissed him. The big smile she saved just for him…the kind of smile he could feel in the kiss…

When Michelle finally pulled away they continued to walk, arms around each other now, Michelle's chin resting in the crook of his neck...Tony couldn't resist pressing his lips against her temple when he saw the happy expression washing across of her face. He sighed, contentedly, as Michelle pressed against him more snugly...

_I love you so much. _


End file.
